


Circus of Horrors

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Clowns, F/M, Gen, Memories, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, coulrophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess has a birthday treat for Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circus of Horrors

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [spn-bigpretzel summer vacation reverse bang](http://spn-bigpretzel.livejournal.com/tag/summer%20vacation%20reverse%20bang). The wonderful art is by mamapranayama on LJ and is all kinds of awesome!

**Now**

Sam is remembering.

Things from his childhood clear in his mind; books Dean read to him, places they visited, a farty donkey, clinging onto his dad’s back as they rode beneath the soaring rocks of the canyon. Now, fevered and thirsty, he remembers his birthday back at Stanford and the treat Jess had planned for him, a surprise trip that he has tried hard to forget.

“Jess took me to a circus once,” he can hear his own voice, hoarse and tired, his hand slung across his eyes; Dean’s breathing harsh against his ears. “She did it because she thought it would be a huge surprise, she thought I’d enjoy it,” he laughed, wry and desperate. “I couldn’t tell her . . . you know. Couldn’t tell her how scared of clowns I was.”

“Sammy,” Dean’s voice was soft and gentle. “Really? Man, what did you do?”

Sam closes his eyes, wistful now.

“I had to pretend to be happy,” he said, finally. “ I had to pretend I was having the best of times. Fuck!” He swiped at his eyes, embarrassed. “Even when we got inside and the clowns started to wave at me.”

“What did you do then?” Dean sounds as if he really wants to know.

“I . . . .” Sam feels his face flush. “I - well you won’t really believe it.”

“Try me.”

Sam sat up and opened his eyes. He stared across at Dean for a long moment and then took a deep breath.

“It was Jess’s idea,” he began and then the year’s slipped away and he was back inside the big top, sweat on his brow, hands shaking and it was as if it was happening all over again.

****

**Then**

“It’s a surprise, baby.” Jess was standing opposite the mirror brushing her long hair. It almost reached the dip of her back now, and Sam wanted to touch it, to pull her gently by it and to spend his birthday in bed with her, celebrating.

“We could just eat take-out here and do other things.” Sam held the plaid shirt against his chest and sighed. Plaid reminded him of his past, of hunting but Jess had bought it for him in innocence and he felt he should wear it even though it hurt to do so. He smiled so that she knew he wasn’t unhappy. “You know – get naked.”

“Sam!” Jess turned around, shaking her head, the grin on her face huge. “We can do that when we get back.” She reached into her bag and pulled out two white tickets. “But first I’m taking you out for your birthday.”

Sam sighed; it had been years since he had even thought about his birthday yet alone celebrated one. His dad stopped buying gifts when Sam was nine and, although Dean had tried, a cupcake and half burnt candle weren’t really much to shout about.

“You know I don’t really do . . . .”

“Birthdays!” Jess sounded slightly irritated. “Like you don’t do Halloween or Christmas or even Easter.” She bit her lip and stared at him. “I know you don’t like to talk about your family, Sam, but what sort of people were they? What family doesn’t celebrate birthdays?”

Sam didn’t know what to say. He wanted to defend his family, to explain that his dad had been too preoccupied with revenge, that Dean had been too exhausted; Dean, who had been brother, father and mother to him, just hadn’t had the time or the effort to remember things like birthdays. He’d tried, sure he’d tried but Sam had stopped even caring a long time ago.

“We had issues,” was all he said, determined not to spoil the day. “But that’s in the past and this is the present so let’s take those tickets and go have a good time.” He grinned and shouldered into the plaid shirt, making a vow that he would enjoy his birthday and have a good time, even if it was just to please Jess.

****

Jess drove; she was cautious and slow and sometimes Sam longed for the days of a sleek black car and thundering rock music. It was a typical case of, _you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone_ and he shook himself out of his wistful musings trying to decide where they were heading.

They had left the city far behind them so it couldn’t be to the theater or the movies. There were no restaurants out here so he couldn’t even begin to guess. Jess was singing to herself and tapping on the dash and Sam stared out of the window, his heart sinking when he saw a tent looming out in the distance. Not just any tent either, a large, stripy tent with flags adorning it, a circus tent, the actual big top and his worse fucking nightmare.

****

Jess handed over the tickets with a smile and slipped her hand into Sam’s. He put his other arm around her in an effort to appear casual but, actually, he was shaking, sweat dripping beneath his bangs, fear making it almost impossible for him to smile.

“Happy birthday!” Jess clapped her hands together with delight and Sam’s stomach swooped downwards as two clowns positioned at the gate lifted their white gloved hands and waved to him. One had the look of **IT** and wouldn’t be out of place in any horror film. The other had one of those hideous fright wigs adorning his head, his face painted in a rictus grin. Sam’s grip on Jess’s shoulder tightened almost against his will. “There are elephants,” Jess continued, oblivious. “And stalls.” She waved her hand randomly. “Maybe you could win me a bear.”

Sam nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He knew they had to walk right on by those grinning nightmares made flesh, and he gritted his teeth hard. Years of being left at _Plucky Pennywhistles_ had left internal scars that would never heal. He could still smell the puke, taste the sandy, cardboard taste of the ice cream. There had been clowns everywhere then, all of them pretending to be happy and friendly, most of them just harmless men in make-up but all of them somehow threatening, young Sam never really knowing what their face paint might be hiding. He shook his head hard and figured that, if he could make it past the clowns, it might be okay.

He kept his eyes on the floor as they passed the gate and was relieved to see that Jess didn’t even notice. Instead, she pulled him towards one of the carnival tents where there was a display of very fluffy, very large bears. Sam kept his breathing even and made his way over to the stall which appeared to be a _Shoot three bulls-eyes to win a prize_. There didn’t seem to be anymore clowns around and he let out his breath with a huff.

“Let’s see if I can win you one of these things,” he said, finally, and Jess clapped her hands again obviously delighted.

An hour later and Sam was actually enjoying himself. He had won two bears for Jess and would have won more if the stall holder hadn’t banned him from shooting anymore targets. Jess had made him ride the mini roller coaster, his knees almost up around his ears much to her amusement. They had eaten hot dogs and cotton candy and Jess had insisted on watching the elephants in the field, trunks swaying. Now, as the sun went down, people were making their way into the main tent and Sam wondered, randomly, if he might be able to avoid actually entering and spoiling what had rapidly become a good day.

The smell of sawdust and straw hit him almost immediately as Jess dragged him inside. The lights around the ring were bright and colorful and a few of the performers were wandering among the crowds selling souvenirs. Sam’s eyes flicked anxiously around the tent but, to his utter relief, he didn’t see one clown and he took his seat next to Jess with a genuine smile on his face hoping that he could get through this and actually celebrate his birthday for the first time since he was a child.

****

**Now**

“You actually went into the tent?” Dean sounded astonished but there was amusement in his eyes now, a slight grin on his face.

“Yeah.” Sam could still recall the sweat under his armpits, and the slight tremor in his legs. “After we went through the gates I hadn’t seen any clowns so I kinda' thought I’d be okay. The acts were really good, cool, you’d have liked them.” He coughed then, throat dry and his brother handed him a glass of water wordlessly. “There were elephants and a girl on the high wire who had legs that seemed to go on forever. I was really gettin' into it and then . . . .” He swallowed. “Then . . . .”

“Don’t tell me,” Dean said. “The clowns.”

“Oh yeah, it was the clowns all right.” Sam shuddered. “But that wasn’t the worst of it.”

“Not killer clowns, Sammy?” Dean was teasing now. “Like those bastards back on the Plucky case.”

“No,” Sam breathed out with a shaky breath. “Just ordinary, everyday clowns.”

“So they scared you, but it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Oh yeah it was.” Sam threw his arm over his eyes again, teeth clenching. “It was very, very bad.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you but you won’t believe it Dean - you’d never believe it.”

****

**Then**

The first few acts had been great.

Sam found himself really getting into it and he was clapping along with everyone else, swept away by the magic of the circus, something he had forgotten about because of his fears. There was a magician who made an elephant disappear, a dog act which involved cute dancing dogs, jugglers and acrobats and a daring young lady on a flying trapeze. Jess seemed as entranced as Sam and so didn’t notice when he excused himself and went to the john during the recess when the clowns came out to keep the audience amused. Sam waited in the cubicle for quite a while, breathing deeply and feeling incredibly stupid and he was thankful when he came out that the clowns had ended their _act_ and the second half was about to begin.

The elephants opened the second act and were followed by an elegant girl who rode on the back of a piebald pony. Sam leaned back and slung his arm around Jess’s shoulder, finally relaxing, the taste of hot dogs and cotton candy fresh in his mouth. It was his birthday and he actually felt like a kid again.

And then, with almost no warning, the music blared out a cacophony of noise and the clowns barreled back into the ring. Sam’s arm went rigid and he was certain Jess had noticed. He felt her hand on his thigh, a gentle squeeze of concern and he swallowed, hard, fear thrumming through him. 

“Are you okay?” Jess whispered and Sam forced a smile he hoped she would think was genuine.

“Yeah,” he even managed a laugh. “I’m great – it’s great – love these guys.”

It was one of the biggest lies he had ever told anyone but it seemed to work and Jess leaned back and laughed along with him.

“Clowns are such fun,” she said.

Sam watched in horror as the gaudily painted creatures scampered around the ring, falling over, smacking each other with plastic flowers and squirting water. Finally their act seemed to be coming to a close and Sam began to relax. He had gotten through it, he had actually gotten through it, perhaps his fear of clowns could be put to rest. 

“And now . . . .” One of the clowns (small with a massive red wig and large orange mouth) had taken his place at the center of the ring. “It’s time to celebrate with our audience.” He beeped his nose and the crowd laughed as if it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. “We need someone who is having a birthday today.” His eyes scanned the crowd. “So kids – anyone here celebrating that special day?”

There was a rumbling in the crowd but no one stood up or volunteered. Some of the kids looked disappointed and the clown made a large _’Ahhhh’_ sound which made Sam cringe inwardly.

“Here’s someone!”

It was Jess’s voice and Sam froze, panic filling him, telling him to run. He glanced over at her to see that she was smiling at him, warm and loving, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“It’s Sam’s birthday!” She cried.

“SAM!” All the clowns shouted out, their voices squeaky. “Come on, Sammy – come down and join us – we have a special present for you!”

Sam couldn’t believe his ears, all those white faces, those oddly painted on expressions, weird wigs and big shoes. They were beckoning to him and he felt terrified realizing that he would rather face a brace of zombies than go down into that ring.

****

“Did you go?” 

There is a glint in Dean’s eyes that hasn’t been there in a long, long time. Not since Sam started the trials or maybe even before then. Sam feels a laugh build in his throat and he lets it out, big and booming. Dean laughs too and his big hand comes down to rest on Sam’s wrist, conscious of the fact Sam is still hot, still a little out of it.

“Yeah.” Sam shakes his head slowly. “I’d just told her I loved those damn clowns, if I’d hesitated she’d know I was lying to her.”

“So you went into the ring?” Dean’s shoulders are shaking again. “And what happened then?”

“Oh God.” Sam closes his eyes, memories rushing in. “You won’t believe it, even if I tell you.”

“Tell me anyhow.” Dean is still laughing and Sam has to smile as he recalls the last part of the tale.

****

Sam’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure the audience would hear it over the loud music and the laughter. The clowns were all around him now, one of them was actually touching him and he felt sure he would vomit.

A small clown in a harlequin suit put a stupid hat on his head and the others laughed, their laughter like the cackle of a malevolent thing. Sam breathed in through his nose, staring at anything but the clowns. He could see Jess laughing and waving, saw the flash of her camera but couldn’t even force a smile. He thought of all the evil things he had hunted, thought of being transformed into something evil. He was wearing a clown’s hat and another of them had pinned a large red flower to his plaid shirt. He felt like a shape shifter or a were, felt as if he was becoming the very thing he feared.

From the side of the ring another clown appeared carrying a huge birthday cake. It had one glowing candle and Sam started as he heard the crowd begin to sing. He realized he hadn’t heard a thing since he entered the ring, his whole psyche to concentrated on the clowns. Now the music had started up again, a loud cacophony of noise, the strains of, _Happy Birthday to You_ echoing in his head. The clown with the cake shoved it towards him and he, subconsciously, backed away. The clown laughed, red mouth stretching wide and then Sam realized he had to blow out the candle, blow out the candle and he could escape, get back to Jess, pretend that none of this had ever happened.

He bent forward and blew as hard as he could. There was a loud pop and the candle exploded, the cake splattering all over Sam, over his shirt, his jeans and his face. Everyone laughed, the clowns hooted and guffawed and Sam put his hands to his sticky, dripping face. If he had had a lighter and some gas at that moment he would have salted and burned the whole fucking lot of them.

Sam HATED clowns.

****

“Man.” Dean was seriously laughing now, head tipped back, a real joy in his laugh. “I used to wonder what clowns had done to you Sammy, now I know.”

Sam couldn’t help but laugh too; sad memories, bad memories, it didn’t really matter as long as Dean was with him to take them away. He shook his head and wiped his forehead, eyes fixed on his brother’s shaking form.

“Yeah – I hated it when you left me at Plucky’s but this, this was far worse. I had to sit in Jess’s car covered in frosting while she laughed and told me what a good time she’d had, told me what a _good sport_ I was, kept asking me if I’d had a good birthday. She’d tried so hard to give me a treat and I didn’t want to spoil it for her.”

“You loved her right?” Dean’s voice was more serious now, his laughter tempered by regret.

“Yeah. I loved her enough to go into the ring with a troup of clowns.” Sam shuddered. “They were evil, Dean.” He couldn’t hold back another laugh, bursting out of him, the release making him feel better. “They were pure fucking evil.”

“But you did it, Sam,” Dean said. “You conquered your fear.”

“Nah, I’ve never conquered my fear.” Sam shook his head. “I’m still petrified by them, their white faces, their red mouths, the look in those painted eyes.” 

“Good job the next trial doesn’t involve clowns,” Dean tried for humor and Sam couldn’t help but giggle.

“I couldn’t do it,” he mused. “Just couldn’t.”

“You could, Sam.” Dean reached down and squeezed his shoulder fondly. “You can do anything.”

“They pinned a button on my shirt.” Sam’s mind was whirling back again, tiredness gripping at the edges of his consciousness, the urge to sleep fiercer than the urge to remember. “Those cake exploding bastards, a _Happy Birthday_ button. Jess kept it in her box of memories, she used to get it out and tease me with it,” he sighed. “It’s gone now – along with everything else.”

“You don’t need a box of memories.” Dean stroked his hair for a moment, watched as he closed his eyes. “You have it all inside of you Sam, it’s what makes you the person you are; brave, strong, and determined.”

“And still fucking scared of clowns!” Sam yawned.

“Well . . . .” Dean was chuckling again and it was joyful to hear. “Nobody’s perfect.”

End


End file.
